


Memories of Love

by ridoma (Diminuendo)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Other, based on 5cm per second, idk what im doing half the time, its like fleeting i guess, like youre not supposed to cry, this is like first serious fic and if it sucks ill cry, this is rushed i think, youre not supposed to feel the angst right there, youre supposed to process it at the end i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:15:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diminuendo/pseuds/ridoma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seasons happened, people loved and the universe expanded. Yet, Moriyama could not stop loving Izuki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories of Love

When Izuki was first excluded it was because:  _Miss. Kanna Izuki-kun talks weirdly and no one understands him!_

The problem was resolved when Miss. Kanna told Izuki to stop talking weirdly and to make sure everyone understood what he’s saying. He made two friends that day and both of them questioned his speech patterns.

(What Izuki doesn't realize is that when he’s older, he’ll look back and laugh because his silly puns were the reason of him being bullied. Yet young Izuki’s feelings at the moment gave him the uncomfortable sensation of a thousand centipedes crawling on his skin. So when he went home, with his left over apple slices, he just pouted at his mom.)

The next day a tall boy with the blackest hair in the world and big hands giggled at Izuki and told Izuki he likes his jokes and they can be friends for eternity. He also told Izuki his eyes look like diamonds and they also remind him of stars.

–

It was at a young age that Izuki loved basketball and played it with all his friends but it was also at a young age that he realized when he wasn’t enrolled in mini basketball, he had no one to play with. So on breaks he’d huddle inside the library until Moriyama found him and grinned, saying that he also wants to learn how to play basketball.

Five seconds later Moriyama mentioned how pretty Fuhei Akamira looked, and when Izuki pouted, he said that Izuki’s eyes were still like two stones, glittering in the sunlight. Izuki didn’t know what that meant, yet he registered the word “glittering” and felt like a sixteen year old with tight jeans and red lips.

–

“Shun-chan! Have you ever kissed a pretty girl?” asked a young Moriyama, taking a sip out of a water bottle too big for his small lips. The water soaked his collar and left a wet feeling against his neck, yet his care had lost a battle against his curiosity. 

“Yoshi-kun, why would you ask that? That’s such a silly question! Of course I’ve kissed my sister!” Izuki grinned brightly, the saint portrait of Aya was painted with the most vivid colors in his memory. Aya’s black hair and silver eyes, her pursed pink lips and the way Izuki’s chubby fingers wrapped around her large one.

“Well, I get to kiss a pretty girl!”

“Your mommy?”

“Nope,” Moriyama responded with a cheeky grin and gave a wet kiss to Izuki’s cheek, making a loud smacking sound.

Izuki giggled and kissed Moriyama’s cheek back.

(Moriyama always found it interesting how their first kiss wasn't on the lips, but an innocent mistake on the cheek. Yet somehow, that mistake held more love and adoration than their last, desperate one that begged for warmth in the cold.)

–

Izuki was twelve when Moriyama shoved his new address in Izuki’s face, all wide-eyed and teary.  Izuki started crying when Moriyama said that they’re never seeing each other again. A few seconds later Moriyama’s mom cupped Izuki’s cheek and said that they’re just moving further away.

Izuki is mature but Moriyama is not and his childish instinct still kicks in when he has to be somewhere for longer than twenty minutes. So when Izuki calmed down, Moriyama did not and started kicking his dad’s shin.

Izuki gently gripped Moriyama’s sleeve and did a broken smile, “Kick Shun’s shin! Get it, because I’m Shun and this is my shin!” 

 Moriyama said nothing and just gently rubbed his knee against Izuki’s leg.

( _I could never hurt you,_ thought Moriyama despite his immature boyishness,  _never you.)_

_\--_

_Dear Moriyama,_

_How are you? The winters here are **win** ing with cold. I have a new sister, her name is Mai. She’s  **mai** favourite sister.  _

_Mai cries a lot; she almost reminds me of you. Aya takes care of her the most, though, I just play with her and make amazing puns._

_Mai’s eyes are dark black and she looks a lot like my grandma, I really thought that was **grand**. (I understand, I understand, enough with the puns, Punzuki!) I can’t really see her hair properly yet, but it isn’t dark black like my own. It’s lighter; maybe she really does take after my grandma. . . Also, I showed Mai a picture of you, she cooed and called you baby!_

_Well, you were very young in that photo, it was when you found that stone and thought it was a gem. Remember? It was all blue and sparkly, you were very happy. Although when Saruwatari-kun broke it and threw it on the ground, you got very angry and started wrestling him. There was mud all over you and your dad had to buy marbles to make you feel better. You gave me all the silver and white marbles._

_Ah, you loved my eyes as a child, didn’t you? Whenever I felt bad, you’d bring them up. You made many comparisons: diamonds, stars, moonstone, fog, bangles and even feathers! My favourite was the dolphin one because I was allowed to make amazing puns._

_Also, you must be surprised that I also responded in letter rather than email! Your letter was so pretty and besides, I’m not the generic type at all, so of course I’d respond in letter!_

_I also asked my mom and yes, you are welcome to stay over! You said three days but mom said a week. Be careful though, the weather is horrible. I heard you’re being driven to a station and taking various trains. I’ll wait for you!_

_Hakodate to Tokyo, that’ll be at least six hours, maybe even longer. . . The snow might stop the trains! Speaking of trains, are you sure you want to take the overnight ones? Just take the morning ones; we can spend the day together!_

_Well, I don’t want to tell you too much, we need to save something for when we meet! So bye for now!_

 

Moriyama stared at the letter gently held in his hand and smiled.

 

The texture of the paper felt rough and there are neat little drawing and puns everywhere.

 

He wonder how tightly Izuki gripped his pencil to make drawings with such precision.

 

\--

Izuki was right.

 Moriyama’s throat was sore and his fingers were numb (the cold seeped into the weak stitching of his gloves hours ago). His scarf brought no heat but irritation and stuffiness and his hat was discarded long ago for obscuring his vision. His back was sore and any posture hurt. He wanted to grip something but the leathery train seat only reminded him of how alone he was in the situation; he stuck to gripping his pants.

 He felt white hot frustration taking birth in his head. Yet, hid his face, hoping that somehow, his broken expectations could communicate the fact that he’d be late and Izuki should stop waiting. He thought of Izuki waiting for Moriyama and forced a smile.

 Moriyama’s smile broke when could feel water seeping into his boots. Frowning, he kicked snow off his boot and an ugly puddle of dirt and water in front of him caught his eye. He grunted and kicked at the puddle, watching water sprinkle on the seats in front. He kicked again and prepared for a third one but stopped when his frozen toes threatened to turn disconnected pricks  of pain into the collective pain of having stepped on a screw. With weak hands, he discarded his boots and wet socks and rubbed his toes, but there was no warmth.

 Again, frustrated he rubbed his toes but he felt nothing.  _Am I not even allowed to let my toes feel warm?_ He questioned the falling snowflakes, right by his window.  _Just what kind of curse have you set on me? You’re no different from parasites, feeding on prey in a bunch. The only difference is that when you’re alone, you’re beautiful._ He could feel warmth in the back of his neck.  _Another difference is that you decide to snap necks like a tiger._

 He made a glare out the window.

_(Beautiful things were haunting, they look like a feast to the eyes but only bring hunger to the soul, especially people.)_

 He stared at the snow outside, the cause of his numbness and frustration. Watching it pile and pile, making blocks everywhere.  _What a selfish creature; you’re already so beautiful. Sparkling, malleable and some people long for you, having not met you. Yet whenever you do show yourself you decide to make blockades and ice—despite everyone’s cheers._

He then thought that he should hate winter, just as revenge. Yet, at that moment he remembered how quickly snow melted and the hot light of the sun would kill this raining goddess and remove all traces.  People would wish for snow and long for her, but when she comes and brings her whole personality along with her, everyone would stone her and demand she left. They’d ask for the heat and the sun instead and all she can do is pathetically create more versions of herself and then melt when the sun does come.

 --

Izuki was not sleeping in his room. He was waiting outside, in the front, with a giant coat and hot chocolate that cooled down and he eventually drank. He had been waiting for far too long, been asked to return too many times and dreamt of Moriyama’s form appearing out of nowhere too hopefully.

Izuki felt pathetic and simultaneously like a disappointed puppy, waiting for his master. He was wrapped in thick, itchy scarves and could only peer out of a messy rectangle. His legs were like rusty gears needing lubricant to move, stuck and stiff.

 He wasn’t overpowered by sleep because in the distance, there was a rising sun promising heat or at least light. He stared at the sun, wishing for it to melt all the snow and promise growth of the budding flowers of his past friendship.

\--

_Have I started to pity the snow? How pathetic, I might as well be hallucinating._

Heat returned to his toes.

\--

Moriyama did come to Izuki by some lost miracle, he walked slowly and tiredly, only to see a sleepy Izuki, resting against his door. 

For the first time, Moriyama breathed and took a step closer to Izuki and gently cupped his cheek.

Izuki woke up, lashes fluttering and mouth dry. He looked up at Moriyama and finally sees the sun bringing the warmth that he dreamt for. For a moment, he could feel peace once again. The feeling of an ending conflict; finding something you lost—it resonated deep inside him. Yet his brain quickly registered other, more dominating emotions that twisted and tore the small strands of happiness. It was despair, the feeling of realization of the pain you've endured and how hopeless the situation is. How you've been desperately clawing at your past shards of excitement and trying to re— 

He felt his eyes getting watery, his body getting weaker and his composure breaking. Only Moriyama could stir him so, make him feel the highs of drugs and the low of self-confidence. His lips tried forming words but he couldn't bring himself to convey them. In this moment, what could he say? Accuse Moriyama of being a liar and thus horrible friend?

Moriyama bitterly smiled and managed to muster, “It’s so, so cold," in a soft whisper. Despite the nature of communication, it was loud in his heart.

 _A conversation starter—something to prompt my words_. Izuki licked his dry lips and swallowed his shakiness. “Where were you..? I was waiting and waiting and,” he stopped talking, feeling his words crumble on his tongue. "I thought you d-ditched me and it's so cold. . . I-I couldn't stop waiting—"

_"—Why?”_

Izuki's voice rang out, confused and hurt. Upset, tired and betrayed, with few tears flowing down his cheeks. What could Moriyama do though?

Moriyama, still with his false smile, shook his head. He leaned in gently and whispered,  _“I wandered lonely as a cloud / That floats on high o'er vales and hills / When all at once I saw a crowd / A host, of golden daffodils / Beside the lake, beneath the trees / Fluttering and dancing in the breeze / Continuous as the stars that shine / And twinkle on the milky way / They stretched in never-ending line / Along the margin of a bay / Ten thousand saw I at a glance / Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”_ He ended the poem, nose to-nose, breath on breath and eye-to-eye. So how could he not just—

He kissed Izuki.

Soft whispers, soft touches, soft kisses. Everything about these two was soft, innocent yet so melancholic. They lived with each other and breathed in each other’s love but exhaled their fear of their distance.

If one day of bad snow, one season of bad snow could rip these two apart, then what about anything else. If an innocent factor like weather could destroy them then what about permanent factors? What about their current distance? How much of each other’s soul could they breath in before they drink each other’s love dry? 

The moment Moriyama kissed Izuki, he did it when neither of them were happy. He did it because he had no words to heal Izuki and what he had been through. He had nothing to say to Izuki expressing his thoughts at almost being selfishly abandoned. Moriyama could only feel Izuki’s cheek and think of Izuki’s rosy lips. His kiss was primitive and so was the fact he could only manage lines of poetry to Izuki. 

Yet two seconds into the kiss, he realized that maybe Izuki will never be his. That more storms will destroy their hearts and pollute their air, soon they will become memories at the bottom of an ocean. Another two seconds and Moriyama wrapped his arms around Izuki and despite his understanding for his future, he set a determination to love Izuki more than he ever has anyone. At that moment, that Moriyama Yoshitaka realized that he wouldn’t miss loving Izuki, he’d miss being loved by Izuki. So when his grip tightened, he challenged the world.

\--

Kasamatsu Yukio was the last one to join the poetry club. He had short hair, a bite to his voice and large blue eyes. 

Moriyama couldn’t figure out why Kasamastu enrolled in this club; Kasamatsu should devote his time to his beloved basketball team. But one day, when Moriyama asked, Kasamatsu gestured to his ankle and Moriyama understood.

“It must be hard to have something to separate yourself from the things you love, huh, Kasamatsu?” Moriyama inquired a day later, an unreadable smile playing on his lips.

Kasamatsu paused to think for a minute, “Sure, it does suck.” 

He briefly glanced over to Moriyama, met his eyes and then looked the other way. Kasamatsu looked like he was about to hesitate, but then slowly started talking. 

“I know this is out of context and all, but I also just realized something. About what you said.” He paused, to find the right wording. “I. . . that logic, doesn’t it apply to people, too? I mean--this is out of topic and all, but the realization of how easily separated a person can be is kinda, intimidating.” He scratched the nape of his neck and met Moriyama’s eyes, “Right?”

“Right, yeah,” Moriyama acknowledged with a wave of his hand. “But enough of that, save it for poetry club. Although, so, why the poetry club? Why not some other one?”

Kasamatsu licked his bottom lip, “Well, you see, someone I know does poetry. So, I want to learn about it myself to grow closer to them. I’m not that good right now, but if I keep trying to learn it better, I think that one day, we can understand each other better. Maybe even,” the tips of his ears turned red, “Express our true emotions to each other.”

Moriyama’s eyes flickered with another emotion, “I suppose so. So with that logic. . .”

_Izuki._

_“_ Teach me how to play ball? I know you’re all roughed up, but in exchange, I’ll teach you about poetry and everything. That, way you can get closer to this mystery person, although,” he paused to wink, “It seems you’re in love with them.”

Moriyama got three slaps that day and bought three bags of chips to make up for his comment. Kasamatsu, despite the overwhelming quantity, ate them all. 

That night Kasamatsu fell asleep with the feeling that he has a chance at the championship. 

\--

Moriyama was strangely determined to learn about basketball and it made Kasamatsu red in the face. He kept asking,  _demanding_ the reason but Moriyama just shrugged and smiled at him. 

It made Kasamatsu hopeful, happy and suddenly the pain in his ankle didn’t matter anymore to him. He felt like he was on a cloud right after a storm. His temper dropped too, and his poetry started to show growth.

The feeling that he felt must have been love, a pure love residing in his heart. He could taste it, imagine it and even feel it; a future with Moriyama. All he needed was patience and the faithful day when their hearts would fully connect to each other. Then Moriyama would no longer have those distant eyes, then Moriyama would stay rooted to the present, to their current relationship. 

His love must have been requited after all, who else does Moriyama know that loves basketball?  
\--

The distant eyes didn’t disappear, it was the exact opposite; they kept reappearing and Moriyama became more passionate as the days went by. It was confusing, disarming and totally unexpected for Yukio. Yet, he he kept his resolve and kept trying to close their distance, to silently confess his love and adoration.

He wasn’t stupid, though. There’s a chance that Moriyama is too pure or deceptive and in no way longs for Kasamatsu’s touches. To those thoughts, he bows down to because he knows he can’t entertain a false idea for the rest of his life. 

With the realization of this, he found himself wedged in between darkness and light. What the darkness and light represented was beyond him, but the uncertainty had begun to rip him apart, piece by piece. He so badly wanted Moriyama to confess to him, proclaim his love for Kasamatsu and run away forever. Yet it never happens, every time Kasamatsu is sure that he has a chance, the thought is crushed by other factors.

It was despair, he realized one day, and it isn’t healthy. Yet he kept teaching, kept learning and kept hoping for Moriyama. His touches became more intimate and his smiles showed up more, yet the response didn’t change. He needed to vent, to empty and let himself go. 

He joined the poetry club for a reason, right?

_Dear young lady, fair as you are / You have drowned in another ocean, distant away / I have many times tried searching for you / Yet you rip all my nets and destroy my ships / Oh fair lady, won’t you stop / Won’t you drown with me today? / Won’t my eyes cast lights in yours? / Dear young lady, won’t you stop letting me hide in your smile / The shadows that your umbrella cast are now too big._

“Well, that was a shitty poem,” Kasamatsu muttered to himself, “Guess not everyone can convey their passion or some shit.”

“Here, I was thinking that you’d make a poem about hope and winning. Yet it’s about some messed up despair.” Moriyama shot a smile at Kasamatsu, “You’re still learning, this thing doesn’t come naturally to everyone. Heck, I know people who remember poems and run around paraphrasing lines. This,” he tapped the page, “Is original—perhaps not quality—content. You should be proud of that, you know?”

Kasamatsu shook his head, “Sometimes I question why I even joined this club in the first place. The people, the themes. . . Everything is so, like, fleeting? No one really is resentful of the past, ‘s like, they enjoy  _misery._ Like, they’re not the savour-the-moment type of people, they just observe the scene rather than feeling it. It really doesn’t suit me, I guess.”

Moriyama nodded and then widened his eyes, he tried responding against the statement but found no words. Kasamatsu was right. “Hey, maybe that’s why we’re drawn here. We already observed the scene so now we can write it down.”

“Yeah, but,” Yukio tilted his head, “What's the point of the heat of the moment? You're just going to stand there, observing everyone, including yourself. You'll never truely feel it , you'll just be analyzing the moment. No, that way, people will never understand you. You'll have control over yourself and your true self is hiding somewhere. They'll be exposing themselves to you, making declarations that you can never truly experience the sentiments behind. You can take them apart all you want, but you can never confront them."

_Izuki. Snow. The kiss._

Moriyama laughed, a bit too bitter and forced for Kasamatsu. “What’s this talk about sentimentals? Not everyone believes in ‘em and they take a heck load of commitment to force a real attachment to.” 

“Pfft, always thought that you’d believe in them. In my opinion, if you actually gave a few shits, sentiments wouldn’t need commitment or a ‘forced attachment,’ you’d just click.” Kasamatsu placed a hand to his chin, his thumb lightly squeezing it, “Anyways, I was also wondering if you’d like to walk home together today?”

Moriyama opened his mouth, to retort to Kasamatsu’s comment, but closed it and decided not to get any more aggressive with it. “Sure, why not? Better yet, just leave now. Akane-chan is chill about this stuff, oh! Consider showing your poem to her, she can give feedback.”

The idea was dismissed with the wave of a hand, “Nah, it sucks and besides, Akane is, well. . .”

Moriyama grinned, his eyes lighting up, “Ohoho, looks like Yuki-chan still can’t talk to girls! Don’t worry,” he winked, “Your secrets is safe with me!”

“Yuki-chan my ass!”

\--

The sky looked more artistic than ever. Like a painting, with a surplus of stars and gentle purples painted across the sky. The moon was a brilliant and clear light, resembling a marble and clashing against the night sky colours. It was too captivating and surreal, like the skies you dream to lay your head under but never quite got the chance too.

Moriyama was uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn’t like him, always spouting poetry or phrases that didn’t belong to the current conversation. Kasamatsu couldn’t guess his face, but every fiber of his being hoped it wasn’t the far out look he always wore. Those glazed eyes always made his heart beat faster in worry and made his fears of being completely one-sided arise.

Not that Kasamatsu wasn’t already confused about the situation. His love had come to the point where he became frustrated and seeking an answer, a confession or a signal to keep going. Moriyama was a black hole that sucked in every fiber of Kasamatsu’s being and tore it apart once Kasamatsu was finally sucked it. There was no looking back, no option to, there was only to keep looking forward and to keep enduring the feeling of being ripped apart. One day, it’d become too much and he’d collapse from it.

(Assuming that the current, overly touchy Kasamatsu isn’t extremely unstable and tired from it all. That this hadn't taken its toll emotionally and Kasamatsu isn't just running through his life.)

“Moriyama, I,” andhe couldn’t speak _._ Gulping _,_ he quickened his pace to walk beside Moriyama and turned his head and  _oh_. Kasamatsu’s fear of Moriyama loving someone else had become real.

He didn’t bother trying to get Moriyama’s attention, he just looked down, at his legs.  _This was it_ , he thought. He needed a signal to escape the black hole, but it hurt so much and felt so unfair to him. He had become drunk on the thought of his first love and it’s time to repent. Yet, as much as he accepted it, he couldn’t process it completely.

It’s not fair at all, he had been wasting his time with shitty poetry and teaching Moriyama to play, only to have been embarrassing himself the whole time.

Why couldn’t he have realized earlier? Why did he bother thinking he had a chance? Moriyama was very mysterious and rarely talked about his at-home life, so it’s possible he loved someone else. So why did Kasamatsu continue pining? Why can’t he chalk it down to some silly crush and live on? Why does this realization bring more despair, than acceptance?

Pain heals over time, some say. Yet the moment he had taken in consideration of not being loved back, he had started experiencing a subconscious pain which did not heal. It drilled holes, uncertainty and manipulated his emotions.

He choose to ignore it and preyed on an innocent Moriyama and this is his destiny. This is what becomes of him, now.

(That distant look that Moriyama wore with his glazed eyes were aimed at the sky and now Kasamatsu had understood. From the very beginning he had no chance. He smiled, he had already understood that, though. This just confirms that he had chosen to blindly live and become selective with the world around him.)

The walk home featured them not talking to each other and Kasamatsu silently crying, becoming more broken at the fact Moriyama hadn’t noticed.

_(Beautiful things were haunting, they look like a feast to the eyes but only bring hunger to the soul, especially people.)_

_\--_

She’s beautiful, is the first think people said about her. Yokita Senna was smart, graceful and hard working. She loved bitter chocolates and gummies and also was in a committed relationship with Moriyama. This was until she had come to the same conclusion that he was lazy and lacked no motivation, so she broke up with him.

The same day, Moriyama quit his job and decided to walk outside at ten o’clock at night where he was more a serial killer than a regular civilian. 

He tucked his hands inside his jacket pocket and walked forward, someone had passed him, it seems they were talking on the phone rather happily, but Moriyama showed no interest. It’d only make him think of a lost future.

(”I can’t believe Aya is pregnant, mom! You should’ve seen Mai’s face, she was bouncing everywhere; it was so cute! I’m actually buying some late night snacks because she can’t sleep! I’ve never seen her more happier..”)

\--

_“And right then it felt like I finally understood where everything was, eternity, the heart, the soul. It was like I was sharing every experience I'd ever had in my past 13 years. And then, the next moment, I became unbearably sad. I didn't know what to do with thiseeling. Her warmth, her soul. How was I supposed to treat them? That, I did not know. Then right then, I clearly understood that we would never be together. Our lives not yet fully realized, the vast expanse of time. They lay before us and there was nothing we could do. But then, all my worries, all my doubt, started melting away. All that was left were Akari's soft lips on mine.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Moriyama needs to get over himself lo l


End file.
